Aunt Petunia
by AccioJosh
Summary: Why Aunt Petunia is how she is. Just a little one-shot that I had to write.


_**Aunt Petunia**_

By Josh McCusker

_A/N:I had to write this. I'm not sure where, but I remember a story that touched on Aunt Petunia's version of Lily's Hogwart's letter and it sparked in me a need to feel her out, to know why she's so cruel to her nephew. I'm not sure if I get everything across in this, but... let me know what you think. Feedback is very much welcome and flames or nit-picking is also. I haven't had this beta read, so any mistakes are correctable._

_ETA: I decided to revisit this and update it, make it a little better and such._

Petunia Evans sat at the dining table with her usual toast and marmalade. She had never enjoyed a large breakfast, which had often led to fighting with her mother on mornings the woman was determined to shove eggs and bacon and various other foods down her child's throat. Even at fourteen, Petunia was a woman and not to be deterred when her mind was set.

Casting a glance at her father, whose face and entire upper body were hidden behind the morning paper, Petunia tried not to think of when he used to spend breakfast teasing and playing with his oldest daughter. It had been three years that he'd taken to the paper like this, and she wondered whether she'd even remember his face after he was gone.

"Mornin'," Lily mumbled as she entered, her eyes still sagging with sleep and her hair mussed and standing on end in places. Petunia smiled at her and winked, her own perfectly placed hair and clothes the exact opposite of her sister. It had never escaped her attention that her younger sister and she were opposites, but both of them had taken that to advantage and used it to get their way against their parents; Lily and Petunia, the perfect team.

"Good morning Lily," she offered along with the pitcher of freshly squeezed (and very carefully strained) orange juice. Lily was the only one of the Evans family that Petunia would allow to share in her always perfect cooking. Having decided at twelve that her mother was a disaster in the kitchen, Petunia had taken to making her own meals. She was so set in her ways that her mother and she came to loggerheads more often than brothers.

"So I think I'm going to enjoy school this year," Lily offered, a bit of cheer creeping into her still sleepy voice. "I've heard that Randy Bennett's coming to –"

"Lily dear, about that," her mother interrupted. "We've had a letter from ... What was it called dear?" Her husband looked up at her, the paper folding to allow his family a glimpse of his rough face. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but her mother answered and he disappeared again. "Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Petunia asked with a sour expression. The word rolled off her tongue like something sour and dirty and she had to force it out. "What kind of name is that for a school?"

"Well I don't know," mother said distractedly as she dished out eggs for Lily. "They're sending someone over to discuss enrolling Lily, though," she added, almost as an after-thought. "Bit unusual, isn't it? Sending someone 'round to discuss enrollment?" She was looking off, the spoon with egg dangling over Lily's plate dangerously close to spilling onto the white linen tablecloth. Petunia was watching with a nervous eye, her concern for the state of the linen's obvious.

"I suppose it's one of those _alternative_ schools," Petunia offered. She had been invited to one herself; something called 'Ms. Violet's School for Women' had a reputation for turning out bra-burners and lesbians. Petunia had dropped it into the trash immediately and declared any woman who wasn't a homemaker wasn't a woman at all.

---

"Lily! Petunia! Oh you must come down at once! We have wonderful news!"

Petunia knew that Lily's interview for the school had come today, and that Lily had only just been released to return upstairs to the room she shared with Petunia. Having just walked through the door, she sighed and gave a burdened expression before turning to head back down. Following with a bit of anticipation, some excitement for her sister and a bit of jealousy that Lily was getting more attention than her, Petunia barely made it to the foyer when she heard: "We have a witch in the family! Isn't it wonderful?"

---

Lily had come home every summer with tales of crazy classes and exciting spells that she'd learned. Petunia had listened to every word, memorizing everything with a jealous, angry disgust. As much as she pretended to Lily that she was excited for her sister, she hated Lily with all her being. It wasn't just jealousy because she could do something Petunia couldn't, but it was the way her father's eyes twinkled while he listened, his paper dropped and his attention full on to his youngest daughter.

The summer before Lily's final year, she had brought home a boy she'd written of from school. James Potter, he'd been introduced as. He looked as though someone had rolled him out of bed, thrown on some clothes from the seventeenth century and then decided it was enough. He was clean shaven and somewhat handsome, but his hair was too much for Petunia. It was all she could do not to tie him down and cut it all off.

He was strange. That was all she could think of him. Aside from his funny clothes, he seemed to find electricity and television and the radio all amazing, getting excited when their mother went to pull tea from the microwave.

"So it uses radishun to heat it?"

"Radiation," her father corrected him. "It causes the molecules to speed up, thus heating the—"

"What's a mollycool?"

"Do they even _teach_ you at this _school_ of yours?" Petunia had cut in.

"Oh yes!" he exclaimed. "We learn all about history of magic, potions and spells... Everything a proper wizard needs to know."

"I've learned a lot of household spells," Lily added warmly. She apparently hadn't noticed, or was ignoring Petunia's derisive tone. "Of course I can't use them here yet," she added with a bit of red on her cheeks.

James grasped her hand and they exchanged a warm look. Petunia caught their father glowing and swore steam might be emanating from her ears. He never looked at _her_ like that when Vernon came 'round.

"Why can't you, dear?" Their mother had come in from the parlor and was carrying some needlework. She settled into a chair next to her husband and also went a bit brighter seeing her daughter and future son-in-law holding hands and gazing wistfully at one another. Petunia simply thought it was rude how they ignored everyone like that.

It was James who answered, however, his gaze leaving Lily's to meet their mother's. "Well she's under-aged. You've heard of the Restriction for Under-aged Magic, haven't you?"

"Oh yes, that's right." She smiled softly. "We've never had to think about it; Lily hardly brings out her wand at all during the holidays. Sometimes we even forget she's a witch!" She chuckled softly, her smile brighter and her eyes filled with pride. Petunia felt sick.

"Well, Lily could go to Azkaban if she were to use spells around here. It's dangerous and all. If the wrong sort caught her, well..." James looked around the table nervously. "I don't mean to do wrong by you, but muggles aren't well-known for their treatment of witches."

"Oh dear I know! How I've worried myself blue at times thinking of what might happen were Lily found out. She's such a good child, though. She would never do anything improper!"

"Nor would I," James said. "I wouldn't want those Dementors after me!"

"Dementors?" their father said, his paper disappearing once again.

"They guard Azkaban. They're right horrible. Make your blood run cold and your heart turn to ice."

"Azkaban's the wizard prison," Lily said in answer to their unspoken question.

---

Petunia hid her family secret from Vernon as long as she could. It just didn't fit with their style of living, nor her desire for the perfect life. It wasn't as if he had to know, either. Withholding things from one's husband wasn't exactly proper, but as long as he didn't find out elsewhere, it wouldn't matter. Lily was never home, and hardly even for holidays any more. From what Petunia gathered, there was some crazy bloke named Voldemort running amok and it had everyone in a right state.

The wedding invitation came in the mail on a Tuesday, which was Petunia's pedicure day. It was to be held at a place called Godric's Hollow. Petunia had never heard of it, but according to the directions, it was somewhere near Tewkesbury Abbey in a town called Upton upon Severn. It was described as a small vacation estate with old-world charm, but Petunia had the impression it was in fact one of _their_ establishments.

Since it would be very unwell indeed to decline her sister's invitation, Petunia knew it was time to tell Vernon about her family's dirty little secret.

---

Vernon was shifting uncomfortably and looking around with distrust at everyone in sight. Petunia knew they weren't the only normal people here, but with the amount of _them_ around, it was nearly enough to give her heart a stop when, randomly, a loud bang or some form of an explosion could be heard. And by the Lord above, how could she trust the food? Vernon had tried one of these little bean-like confections left around and said it tasted like dirty gym socks. She herself had picked up a toffee only to find herself turning blue and sprouting something from her arms that she'd rather not think about. A disturbingly happy young man had come up and pointed his wand at her, nearly causing her to scream out of her wits before she realized he was going to clear them up.

"You must be Petunia," said the dark-haired man. "Sirius Black's my name," he told her as if it should mean something. "I'm James' best mate and the best man, if you get my drift," he said cheekily, adding a wink.

"Indeed," she scoffed. "My husband would be pleased to meet you," she said airily with a note of sarcasm that he missed, the word 'husband' enough to make him smile and disappear.

"Don't mind him," said a light-haired fellow who had been standing nearby. "Sirius is always like that. He speaks before thinking. One of these days it'll get him into a load of trouble."

Petunia regarded the younger man down her nose, as she'd come to regard most things these days. It was hard not to hold her head up when she was constantly surrounded by imbeciles and wretches. This man, however, seemed different. She knew he was one of _them_, but he seemed reserved, intelligent, nearly normal. He was dressed rather impeccably in normal clothes with only a cape belying his difference from anyone on the street. She knew instantly that they were kindred souls and, aside from Vernon, he was probably the only one she could enjoy speaking to.

It was not in the cards, however, as the reception took a rather disastrous turn when some bloke by the name of Peter found it impossible not to destroy the entire stage by accidentally tripping over someone's foot. Petunia had gathered up Vernon and used the melee to escape the reception.

---

The day she came home from her doctor's appointment with news of a baby, she was in a very happy mood. She immediately called her parents and told them all about it, and both of them came right over. She and Vernon had recently purchased a lovely three-bedroom up-and-down in a small town called Little Whinging. It was a perfectly adorable little neighbourhood in the middle of Surrey, right near all the best schools and not too far from Vernon's job.

Being the perfectionist that she was, the house was always immaculate, which her mother never hesitated to comment on. "Oh she was always such a clean child," she would say to Vernon. "I remember when she was just two, she used to organize her dolls by hair and eye color." The smile her mother would affect was soft, usually somewhat proud but with a something unreadable. Petunia would think of how her mother smiled when speaking of Lily and want to scream.

"Have you thought of a name?"

"Dudley," she said with one of her terse smiles. "Vernon's father's name." Vernon took her hand and beamed at his mother and father in law, his growing girth a sign of how well Petunia took care of him. He had gained nearly two pants' sizes in the last few months alone, and was always asking for seconds and thirds of her delightful cooking.

A few months later, Lily came to a family dinner at their parents' home. From the start, Petunia knew something was happening as her sister seemed to have a nervous, shy and somewhat ridiculous smile the whole evening. When her and that prat of a husband of hers stood up and announced they were also expecting, "Harry for a boy, Sarah for a girl," Petunia nearly jumped up and slapped her. Not only had she taken away the spotlight, she had decided to name her baby after their parents; her father couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the night.

---

Dudley was born at the end of June, a good time for baby boys to be born. She had always known it would be a boy, so there had never been question of a name. Dudley was a plump little baby with a dark tuft of hair and deep blue eyes. She knew that within a few months his hair would lighten and her Vernon would have the blond haired babe he'd always wanted. She had never disappointed him and had no intentions of doing in future.

On the very last day of July, a horrible time to be having babies as the heat led to high temperament and nasty tantrums, Lily gave birth to a baby boy with blond hair and Lily's emerald eyes. Immediately Petunia saw the uncanny resemblance of son to father and thought it would definitely be a ghastly child.

"It's common in wizard families for the children to look very much like their parents," Lily said as she nursed Harry in the park while Dudley threw his toys at passers-by. "His hair will probably darken and be just like James'," she added, her face full of pride. Dudley's hair had already lightened, just as predicted, and he was the perfect babe. Petunia gave a little scowl at the nasty wretch that was Harry, his powder-blue baby blanket looking too good for something so obviously nasty.

"Have you thought about schools? We're going to be sending Dudley to Smeltings," Petunia said proudly. "It's where Vernon went."

"Oh Harry will go to Hogwarts, of course."

Petunia frowned. "Are you sure..."

"Oh yes, we've already seen signs. Just a few days ago he wanted his bottle and it just apparated right to him! We were so proud!"

Petunia didn't ask what 'apparating' was, figuring she'd rather not know. It bothered her already that her father had said of Dudley, "He's fat, isn't he?" From that point on, Petunia had loathed Harry Potter with all her heart.

---

_Petunia,_

_I'm so sorry I haven't been able to write you, Pet. It's been ages, but unfortunately this will have to be my last letter by muggle post. We've gotten word that there are people after our us, so Professor Dumbledore thinks it would be best if we were to go into hiding._

_Sorry to keep this so short, but I'll write more soon. Maybe you could buy a few extra scraps of meat for the owls? You know how they love a good steak._

_Love always,_

_Lily_

---

_Dearest Petunia,_

_We're still in hiding here at Godric's Hollow. You remember where we had the wedding reception? I miss you all so much and I wish only that I could come home for Christmas. James insists that it won't be long before Voldemort is caught and we're able to come out of hiding, but I have a dreadful feeling in my heart that tells me it won't be that easy._

_Harry is getting so big, Pet. You should see him! He's started to speak lately and we're desperately trying to get him to say 'mum' or 'dad' before we see you next. We're so proud of him! I can't wait for him and Dudley to play together. I just know they'll get along as we did when we were kids._

_Oh I miss you so much, Pet. You don't know how it is being caught up in all this mess. We don't even know why this madman has decided to come after us, though there's rumor of a prophecy involving Harry. James thinks it's something to do directly with You-Know-Who, but we were only given a quick briefing before we were sent off._

_If anything happens to us, I'm so glad to know that Sirius is there to take care of Harry. I know it's horrible of me to bring up such morbid thoughts around the holidays, but I can't escape this feeling. We used to be so close, Pet. I miss that about us. I know things changed when I went off to school, but you know you were always in my heart._

_I best send this along now before the owl pecks off my fingers. He's been dying to get out for days! Give him a few treats before you return him, won't you? I know you're not terribly fond of the owls, but humour me!_

_Yours always,_

_Lily_

Petunia scoffed and looked at the owl who was patiently watching her. Without thinking, she pulled up some of the roast she'd been eating and tossed it to the waiting bird. As she wrote her reply, she heard soft tearing sounds and only barely wondered at why anyone would want to employ a mail system that required so much care.

_Lily,_

_Terrible news about the danger and I do hope it all works out. Though, as Vernon often says, one finds that such things come with certain lifestyles. Good to hear about the boy speaking. Dudley had been saying 'mine' and 'want' for some time. We're quite proud of his verbal skills. He's learning the names of several of his favorite toys already. He has also begun to plump up just like every normal boy should! He looks so much like his father._

_I really do wish you would use regular post in the future. It's quite daunting to have to _feed_ the mail carrier._

_Do have a good time in Gloucestershire._

_Petunia_

She sniffed as she folded the letter, careful to match the creases on the letter to the size of the envelope. Staring at the bird as she stuffed the letter and addressed the envelope, she caught sight of a few feathers that had been left on the table and rolled her eyes. She would have to clean for an hour to rid her of the mess this creature would leave behind.

When she had given the envelope to the bird, properly held in its beak, she watched it fly off out of the window and had the sudden feeling it was the last time she'd receive an owl from her sister. For a moment, her heart pulled and her eyes stung, but soon she had reserved herself to cleaning the kitchen.

Two days later, Vernon had found baby Harry on the step with a letter addressed to them both from the man called Dumbledore. The Potters were dead and their chosen godfather was not accessible. They were to be forced to take in the child and raise him as their own.

They agreed then and there that he would _not_ be a wizard.


End file.
